


The Little Guy Theory

by generallou



Series: The Detective's Theorem. (xingdae) [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: But it's also important to the story, Christmas Eve, Christmas Special, Established Relationship, Fluff, Jongdae does detective work yet again, M/M, Sehun and Jongin are children, They're both whipped for each other now, They're boyfriends now too, Xingdae are very fluffy, Xingmas Daes 2019, Yixing is only tagging along, cliffhanger sorry, kind of, sehun is jongdae's little brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21869899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generallou/pseuds/generallou
Summary: Maybe Jongdae shouldn’t have made the last few Christmases hard for Sehun, but he hadn’t been particularly worried about the counter attack that Sehun had in mind for him this year (especially when it gives reason to spend an extra eventful first Christmas with Yixing.)Though Jongdae ends up worrying anyways, because whoever had planned the riddles together with Sehun, definitely had something else going on in their heads.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Series: The Detective's Theorem. (xingdae) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575562
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19
Collections: The Xingmas Daes 2019





	1. '8PM ON THE DOT!'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angel921](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel921/gifts).



> This work was written for the Xingmas Daes 2019!
> 
> I must take this chance to thank Mod K for their unending patience and continuous encouragement. Thank you for being so communicative throughout the whole fest. I'm very thankful to have this fest as my first. 
> 
> It's nice to meet everyone again! I hope everyone's enjoying a warm Christmas month wherever you are. This story is sort of a sequel to the first fic of the sleuth!Jongdae series, and it would definitely help a little if you read the first fic since there are a bunch of references as well as details that might not be understood if you don't read the first one, so I do highly recommend it! And to the ones who've already read the last fic, yes, they're boyfriends now. ^^v I don't have the guts to write anything too dark for my beloved Christmas, but regardless, I hope you all will enjoy this short light-hearted piece!! Thank you for giving this a chance!
> 
> I'd like to gift this work to Angel, who's always been one of my dear sisters in faith, as well as a constant companion who's always been there.

Sehun smiles to himself at the written invitation in his hands, the little sheet of pastel paper clutched in between his fingers. He thumbs at the tiny stars clumsily drawn at the corners of the paper, lips curling into a wider smile when he realizes that the pastor had used crayons in writing the contents of the note. Jongin rests his chin onto the top of Sehun’s shoulder, tiers jutted out curiously as his eyes round at the attractive little note.

“Who gave you that?” Jongin asks.

“Reverend Wu,” Sehun tells him before he raises the note closer to Jongin’s line of sight, “He’s going to help me get hyung a gift for Christmas!”

_‘Hey there, Sehun! Don’t forget what’s on tonight! We’re so blessed to have you joining us this year~ Remember that we’re scheduled for 8PM on the 24th. Make sure to come at least 15 minutes earlier to be prepared! C:_

_Yours truly, Reverend Wu.’_

Jongin’s head tilts questioningly. “This doesn’t say anything about getting a gift though, Hunnie?”

“The gift is special!” Sehun grins, folding the note into his pocket. Jongin raises an eyebrow at him, plopping his favourite stuffed bear in between his thighs as he looks on ahead towards the busy crowd before scooting closer to the younger boy’s side. The latter doesn’t seem to notice this, legs swinging back and forth over the edge of the bench, humming a merry little tune that he’s heard his own hyung sing from time to time. “All that’s left is to think of a challenge for hyung to win so he gets his gift,” he exclaims.

“Challenge?” Jongin blinks confusedly, “That makes your gift a prize.”

Sehun beams, “Hyung does it all the time with me.” His facial features darken ever so lightly, the corners of lips twitching upwards into an exaggerated grin, “This is payback.”

The older boy only laughs, thinking back to the hyung that had _saved him from the clutches of the bad guys._ Jongin remembers the incident with fondness, even if it had been terrifying at that particular time. He remembers the sunny disposition that had successfully deceived the evil couple, as well as the calmness and strength that had defeated one of the villains and rendered him immobile, and he dreams to be just as smart and just as cool, and just as _kind_. Jongin lets out an airy sound as his lips shape into a small smile, “Jongdae hyung will probably find it too easy. He’s an adult and a genius.”

At that, Sehun shrinks; features morphing into a contemplating look. “That’s… the hard part.” Not something he had particularly wanted to be reminded. Within the past week, Sehun had gone through every single one of his detective comics for inspiration and guidance—except, he’s sure that Jongdae’s read over some of his books as well and it’d be too easy for him to see right through his little brother. And then there was the other difference, the fact that Jongdae is a literal adult, a smart-ass, and a _teacher_ at that. Students don’t typically defeat their teachers until they’re old enough, and Sehun knows he’s still got a long way to go. _Bummer._

He pouts to himself, palm running through his locks as he groans in frustration. Jongin smiles as he plays with the arms of his stuffed bear. “Maybe you should ask for help from someone? How about Mr. Zhang?” Jongin suggests.

“They like each other! I can’t ask him!” Sehun groans louder. “He’ll totally snitch…”

Jongin only shrugs. Sehun probably isn’t going to like his other suggestions; but he won’t blame him. Most people truly have nothing on Jongdae.

“I should’ve planned this earlier,” Sehun whines, “At least I’d have more time to prepare… What about you, Nini? Don’t you have any ideas on how to beat Dae hyung?”

The latter turns to him with a dumbfounded look; “What…”

Behind them, a man clears his throat. Jongin turns with widened eyes, meets the stranger’s gaze with a stunned look. Sehun’s brows are furrowed, guards raised as he frowns at the man’s sudden appearance. They’re not particularly sure what to expect, and the man notices this, lips curling into a disarming smile as he places both his hands behind his back. Sehun narrows his eyes. The signs of age are evident from the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, features soft and warm as his smile widens ever so slightly.

Jongin grips around the arms of his teddy a little tighter; “Do you need something, sir?”

He tips the edges of his cap upwards, a playful little twinkle in his eyes. “I overheard you two talking about a Jongdae hyung?” He asks.

Sehun nods, though somewhat warily. “Yes… Why?”

“Is this Jongdae the son of Daeseok? Kim Daeseok?”

_Kim Daeseok?_

Sehun scrunches his nose over hearing the name. It’s not particularly a name that he remembers well. Sehun doubts he would have known the name of Jongdae’s father had this man not mentioned it; that was the kind of name it was. A vague memory, the name that only ever comes up at certain times of the year, the same months that Sehun often wished wouldn’t come for the things his hyung has had to go through whenever they arrive.

_The name isn’t the one at fault, is it?_

He nods again, a brow raised at the man, “You know Dae hyung’s dad?”

“We were really good friends back in the day,” the stranger affirms, a distant look in his eyes as he nods to himself, “Though I’ve heard of his passing. What an unfortunate tragedy.”

Jongin hugs his bear to his chest, unsure of what to make of the man’s words. Even if Jongdae has a special place in his heart, Jongin’s best friend is Sehun—not the older man, and he wonders if it makes him a nosy boy for having his interest piqued by this stranger’s mention of an ‘unfortunate tragedy.’

“I don’t really know him… He died before I was born,” Sehun explains, “Hyung doesn’t talk much about it either.”

“I’ve been meaning to meet him, after all these years. Always came to my mind, how intelligent he was, even as a young teenager,” he says again, “I have something to give him, actually—though it was originally meant for his father.”

“Do you want me to pass it to him for you, Mister?” Sehun tilts his head.

The man perks up at that, a toothy grin forming over his lips. “Actually, about that—Forgive me for eavesdropping, but I happened to overhear your conversation about having trouble with coming up a good game for your hyung?”  
  


“Yeah!” Jongin exclaims, all too suddenly, “Apparently, Hunnie’s hyung is constantly forcing Hunnie to earn his Christmas gifts, and this year, Hunnie wants to pay back for that.”

His eyes widen with amusement, “And you two are having trouble because Hunnie’s Jongdae hyung is far smarter than your average person?”

Sehun begrudgingly nods. Jongin nudges at him playfully. The man chuckles under his breath, head shaking as he lets out a gruff sound. “You know, I know I’m pretty old but I’m quite intelligent too. I am Daeseok’s friend, after all. We were surgeons together,” he winks, “If you guys need some help, I’ll count it as my payment to you for helping me pass the gift to your brother, if you will?”

They turn to each other respectively. Sehun wrinkles his nose; _He’s kind of suspicious._

Jongin squints; _He sounds promising._

Sehun raises an eyebrow; _He does look smart but—_

Jongin nods, motions his jaw towards the man; _He’ll just help you with making a game up, right?_

Sehun shrugs; _What if he leads us into a trap? He’s a stranger, Nini!_

Jongin whips out his phone with a large smile.

“You have a phone now?” Sehun splutters. The older boy nods excitedly before reaching over to cup his palms around Sehun’s ears, and whispers very, _very_ quietly; “I’ll text my mom whenever we walk to a new place. I’ll send her our location every fifteen minutes too.”

Sehun’s gaze shifts briefly to glance at the man, notices that the stranger’s lips have now shaped into a little pout, possibly from watching their exchange and somehow, this had been enough, and Sehun felt his guards lower. “Mister, the game must go in a very specific order. I hope you know that,” Sehun says.

“Not much of a problem for me,” the man laughs, “I’ll make sure it’s challenging enough for your hyung, but still solvable. He has to solve it for you to be able to give him the Christmas present, right?”

_Just how much of their conversation had he heard?_ Sehun hums with an affirmation.

He beams, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile, and all Sehun can think about is how much he looks like the kind florist man who lives down their street with his soft smiles and warm demeanor.

-

Jongdae sighs, plopping the heavy weights of the shopping bags on top of the kitchen counter before immediately waltzing off into the living room to throw himself on top of Yixing; the latter having spent the past couple of minutes scrolling through the comments from a recent music video, relaxed over Jongdae’s couch after an intense Christmas shopping spree. Yixing lets out a soft sound of acknowledgement before Jongdae wriggles himself up the older man’s chest to nudge at his jaw with the top of his head.

“What are you watching this time?”

“Chanyeol sent me a link. Told me to watch it,” Yixing shrugs, chuckling at the younger’s behaviour, “A fancam… I think?”

“Still the same fanboy from our high school days,” Jongdae smiles, patting at Yixing’s chest before sitting up. “I’m wondering what to do for tomorrow’s Christmas game for Sehun. I probably should start planning now, shouldn’t I?”

Yixing only grins, and Jongdae’s heart beats a little faster at the sight of the little dimples that appear in his smiles; “Maybe something to do with puppies. Since you’re getting him a pup?”

Jongdae snorts, “Twenty dollars that he’s going to name it after the _Tamagotchi_ that he has on his iPad.”

“Way too cute,” Yixing comments as he pushes himself off of his reclined state, face now close to Jongdae’s. “Though you’re cuter, of course,” he giggles.

Heat rushes into Jongdae’s cheeks, fingers digging into the cushions underneath him as he begs for a place to hide in or an excuse to escape with before Yixing sees how red he’s about to be. Though as they are now, there’s no such place nor excuse, and all Jongdae can do is hide his face in his palms as he huffs, bringing his knees up to his chest. Like this, Jongdae doesn’t see the softness in Yixing’s smiles as he observes his lover intently.

“You’re teasing me again…” Jongdae says, voice trailing off as he recalls the past few weeks where Yixing’s grown bolder with his teasing ever since they started going out a couple of months ago. Then again, hadn’t Yixing always been bold? Straightforward right from the very start, but somehow still managing to be gentle and extremely considerate with him, and Jongdae wishes he understood how Yixing pulled that off.

He theorizes that it must be to do with his smiles, and the gentleness of the warmth he exudes; coupling this along with his endless determination and courage, Jongdae figures out easily that it’s a deadly combination.

A hand runs through his locks, and the touch is indulging as much as it is careful. Jongdae peeks up from his palms, meets Yixing’s eyes and adoring smile and hides himself again.

“You’re too cute, Dae,” Yixing murmurs; Jongdae grumbles under his breath, wants to tell him to shut up before his heart ends up bursting when the doorbell rings.

Yixing pats his head, stops him just as he’s about to stand up to get the door. “I’ll get it,” he says, walking off towards the front door.

Jongdae takes the chance to release a soft exhale, “Who is it?”

“I don’t see anyone,” Yixing says, looking through the peephole, “Any of your neighbour’s children love playing pranks like this?”

He shakes his head as he approaches Yixing from behind, “None that I can think of.”

Yixing purses his lips, and they stare at the doorknob contemplatively before a small laughter erupts out of Jongdae. “We think too much,” he chuckles.

The officer shrugs, but there’s an amused little smile on his face as he unlocks their front door, pulling the door open as he peeks out of their entrance, glancing at both sides of the corridor. He wrinkles his nose instinctively, lips jutting out in confusion when Jongdae lets out a little sound as he points at a suspicious card placed right in front of their entrance. Yixing hums in acknowledgment, bending over to take the card; “Did you drop a postcard or something?”

Jongdae shakes his head.

He turns the card over, eyes widening as he finally reads over the contents out loud.

_‘I have Oh Sehun in my hands! Want him back? Find him where I’ll lead you to. 8PM ON THE DOT! I’m watching you. If you call the police, you won’t like what happens next! Clue is inside!’_

“ _What?_ ” Jongdae blinks, “Is this a fucking joke?”

“Uh,” Yixing flips the card open, a single brow raised as a passage comes to sight. Jongdae tips his head into Yixing’s space, eyes narrowed as he scans through the lines with him. Jongdae isn’t sure what to think; whatever this is, the whole set-up does undoubtedly scream Sehun, but he can’t help the way fear strikes at his heart—even if it is gentle for now. He grows anxious, and something from the back of his head tells him that he should feel rightfully so. _Is Sehun in danger?_

_‘They called me a dumb little elf with no manners._

_I act like the demon I shouldn’t be._

_They cannot see meaning in my colours._

_But it is my word against the big men.’_

Yixing purses his lips into a thin line, “Should we?” _Is it dangerous?_ Yixing meant to ask.

The tip of his finger traces over the sloppy handwriting, motion pausing as it arrives to a childish little doodle of a chick that Jongdae supposes is drawn with a crayon stick. His lips part, and he thinks back to an agreement that Sehun and Jongdae made a long, long time ago.

“No,” he concludes, “This is Sehun’s handwriting, and the instructions are in definitely Sehun’s tone. This has to be Sehun.”

“He’s playing a prank on you?” Yixing smiles, and the slight tension in his shoulders are relieved, ever so slightly. “Maybe as a revenge for forcing him to earn his Christmas gift for the past few years?”

Jongdae grumbles under his breath. He’s long realized that Sehun probably pictured him as the Christmas Asshole from the very moment he understood what Jongdae was trying to do. “If he’s really trying to avenge himself, he should have at least written a harder riddle,” Jongdae murmurs. “Two can play this game!”

“Looks like someone’s already solved it, huh?” Yixing says, releasing a small, breathy laughter when Jongdae finds himself surprised at the rush of warmth he feels whenever he hears the little sounds that Yixing lets slip. Sniffling, he turns away from Yixing, shuffling back into his house to grab both of their coats and shoes.

The officer tilts his head, arms crossed as he holds the card in between two fingers. He watches Jongdae put on his coat and shoes when the younger looks up to with furrowed brows and a cute pout to his lips. “What are you waiting for? We have to go to where he’s leading us!”

Yixing hums, amusement evident in his tune as takes his coat from Jongdae’s side. “Looks like today’s going to be a pretty interesting Christmas Eve,” he laughs, and Jongdae silently agrees.

“It’s a little funny how we’re spending our first Christmas Eve like this,” Jongdae grins and Yixing chuckles, his pretty dimples appearing in his smile.

_As long as we’re spending it together._

-

“What does the clue mean?” Yixing finally asks, hands shoved into his coat pockets as he shudders against a cold breeze sweeping through the area. It’s all he’d been thinking of for the past ten minutes amidst their walk to the location that Jongdae intends on leading them to, huffing as the best thing that’s come to his mind is an image of a _fucking_ ice queen singing her freedom song as she travels up a snowy mountain. Jongdae laughs as Yixing reveals this to him.

“Your imagination wouldn’t be wrong. If you and I are thinking about the same reference, that is,” Jongdae grins, “The first half of the riddle is a euphemism of sorts, or rather, a reverse euphemism. It talks about a child who doesn’t behave as they are expected to.”

Euphemism. Yixing thinks he knows the word. Jongdae continues to explain; “The second half of the passage is probably a reference to a kind of projection. This misbehaving young person has a message to tell, and they use their colours to convey this message.” He taps his chin in thought, lips jutted out unconsciously and Yixing can’t help but stare.

“The last line may suggest that this ‘word’ of theirs consists of protests against the adults,” Jongdae says, absentmindedly tracing the ends of his little fingers over the brick wall to his right.

_Cute._

“It’s easy to imagine them as delinquents who have the ‘it’s me against the world and the big guys’ mindset,” he nods to himself, kicks a small rock out of his way.

_So cute._

“There’s a wall around here that’s infamous for its’ graffiti that Sehun and I have walked past countless of times, so I’m quite confident that’s where we’ll find the next clue,” the man beams, pumping a fist as his eyes remain fixed at the road ahead of him.

_Seriously, really… cute._ Yixing sighs.

“Xing hyung?” _He’s too cute—_

Yixing shakes his head, blinking dazedly as he lets out a confused sound. “Oh, sorry?”

The corners of the younger’s eyes crinkle playfully, stepping into Yixing’s space to give him a light nudge. “Did I ramble, hyung?”

In answering, Yixing finds himself nearly getting lost in himself once more, gaze travelling from feature to feature—his gentle eyes, the kittenish edges of his lips—taking in as much detail as possible, lips parted in awe until he notices Jongdae’s cheeks reddening in what he assumes to be shyness. He hadn’t particularly been subtle, he supposes, hopes he hadn’t made Jongdae too uncomfortable. “No! No, you didn’t,” he reassures, “I was just… a little distracted.” _By you._

“Oh,” Jongdae nods, but there’s a giddy little smile to his face, “It’s okay, hyung. I’ll tell you again if you need me to. We’re almost there anyways.”

The older would sigh out with relief if he could, his own face beginning to heat up as he finally questions how dumb he had probably seemed. Is Jongdae going to think of him as an idiot now? Or was he going to start seeing him as an inattentive asshole who spaces out during moments he should have been focused in? He clears his throat as he rubs at his nape, “I’m sorry, Dae. I should’ve been listening.”

Jongdae shakes his head, lips shaped into an amused smile; “You better listen next time.”

He leads them down an alley (he calls it a shortcut to a bookstore located at a nearby street) until they finally arrive at an open space, the back of a large building greeting them. Its’ concrete white walls are littered with neon colours, ambiguous depictions and vulgar graffiti decorating over what Yixing imagines would’ve been nothing but a vast, white surface. He frowns, approaches the wall curiously before placing his palm flat on what he observes to be the largest block of graffiti among everything else sprayed over the walls when he notices a small little note stuck on top of the artists’ signature.

_Exactly what they were looking for._ “Jongdae-ah, you’re so smart,” Yixing comments.

“I heard this one was done by a twelve years old kid who ran away from a terrible home,” Jongdae murmurs with a shy little smile, looking up at the orderly splash of colours before picking the note off of the wall, “I remember telling Sehun the story when we walked past here once before.”

_‘I’ve grown up. I’m not a dumb little elf anymore._

_Maybe the world isn’t too bad after all._

_Or am I simply getting used to its’ true nature?_

_How can the cold be so unforgiving?_

_How can the warmth be so overbearing?_

_I survive as if I were a stray, act as if I have a purpose._

_Maybe the place I return to every night, isn’t the home that is true for me.’_

Yixing cocks an eyebrow at the odd passage, and Jongdae takes too long to swallow the lump in his throat after having read through the clue. He thumbs at the handwriting, sees the familiar little chick drawing and sighs to himself.

“This is starting to feel a little off,” Jongdae says. There’s no doubt that the handwriting belongs to Sehun, as does the chick, but the letter gives reason for uneasiness to bloom in his chest and his stomach twists into knots. “Don’t you think this riddle is a little too complicated for a child to make up himself?” Jongdae asks, brows furrowing as he eyes the handwritten passage once more, line by line.

Next to him, Yixing only smiles, “Maybe he learned a thing or two from you, my darling genius sleuth.”

Jongdae splutters at the nickname, cheeks flushing red as he shapes his lips into a thin line before mumbling whispered protests and denials. Yixing giggles to himself, observing him with fondness. His cheerful expression doesn’t last for too long, however, and Yixing finds himself mirroring Jongdae’s uncertainty as he rereads the contents of the note over and over again.

“I think Hunnie has this kind of vocabulary range to him,” Yixing comments, “it sounds like the dumb little elf has grown up and is now looking for meaning in life.”

He hums in agreement, but Yixing notices how his lips remain downturned, brows scrunched in worry as his stare bores into their little clue note. Jongdae lifts his head eventually, brows slanted as he sends Yixing a concerned smile; “I’m scared. This doesn’t really sound like Sehun.”

Uncertainty has never particularly gnawed on him like this, and it has him anxious of his own judgement, has him hoping that there hadn’t been any errors in what they’ve come to conclude earlier. _Because this is Sehun._ He thinks, and that alone throws nearly everything for a loop. When it comes to Sehun, every step of a step count, and every possible risk is a risk he isn’t willing to take.

_What if Sehun had actually been coerced into writing the letter? What if the kidnapper had known about the little secret between him and Sehun? What if there had been a cry for help, somewhere within the words Sehun had written himself, that Jongdae failed to noticed?_

Out of nowhere, he feels his other free hand engulfed by another’s, fingers intertwined with his own trembling digits. Jongdae lifts his head, meets Yixing’s own worried gaze as the latter squeezes his hand tight in his. Yixing doesn’t say a word, but the warmth around his hand says exactly what his heart needs. When deep in his thoughts like this, it’s easy to forget that Jongdae’s no longer alone.

_I’m here for whatever you need me for_.

“He got help from someone,” Yixing says, “Don’t you think?”

Jongdae returns Yixing’s gesture with a similar squeeze, and a soft smile. “Yeah,” Jongdae agrees, “And Nini is with him too.”

“I’m betting that you know where we have to be headed off to next?” Yixing grins, and Jongdae feels somewhat embarrassed and the confidence that the Inspector has in him. Though he can’t deny the way something in him swells with pride because Yixing isn’t wrong; Jongdae knows exactly where to go.


	2. 'I'm home.'

“Oh, Jongdae!”

Jongdae winces at the explosive call, eyes widening as he comes face to face with an eager Baekhyun, forced to take a couple steps back as the man throws his arms around his frame in his excitement, nearly toppling Jongdae off of his balance. Yixing catches them on time, helps Jongdae steady himself back on his feet with a teasing little grin. They’ve yet to see a single animal and Jongdae’s already been pounced onto.

It hadn’t been hard to imagine where the last clue had intended on leading them to. A stray that has found its’ place, a temporary home that keeps it safe from the _overbearing warmth_ as well as the _unforgiving cold_. A home that isn’t home. Jongdae holds Yixing’s hand tight in his as he leads them to a local animal shelter. The fact that Sehun and Jongdae has visited the place a couple times prior to this as volunteers serves as a confirmation of sorts that the chances of them being on the right path is high.

“I was expecting you,” Baekhyun grins toothily, arms crossed over his chest once he pulls himself off of Jongdae, mocks a haughty expression in his playfulness, “Two little elves came by today claiming that they needed my help for their little Christmas mission!”

Yixing whistles, “Jongdae-ah, you’re so smart.”

_Had Sehun came here knowing Baekhyun would be here?_ Jongdae quietly sighs. Then again, Baekhyun has always been a regular volunteer at the shelter and Sehun is probably well-acquainted with Baekhyun enough to know about what he does here. “Yixing hyung, this is Baekhyun. He teaches Chemistry where I teach,” he introduces just as Baekhyun cackles after telling Yixing that _Biology sucks_ _and Chemistry is superior_ as if he doesn’t literally teach Biology as a tutoring side job _._ On a typical day, Jongdae might’ve allowed himself to get riled up at the very prospect of having to hear that statement and might’ve spoken up against it in a purposefully defensive manner just to play along with Baekhyun. Except, today isn’t particularly a typical day and as Jongdae glances at the wall clock behind Baekhyun, he nods to himself once more. He has to play this the way Sehun wants him to.

“I’m Yixing, Jongdae’s boyfriend,” Yixing smiles, dimples adorning the sides of his mouth prettily, “We just started dating a couple of months ago.” Jongdae stops himself from getting distracted by the way Yixing introduced himself as _his boyfriend. His boyfriend._

Baekhyun cocks an eyebrow, “Wow. Straight to the point much?”

“Anyways,” Jongdae clears his throat, “Do you know what we’re supposed to do since they came to you for help?”

“What do you think?” Baekhyun smirks.

Jongdae sends him a sharp glare that has Baekhyun pouting defensively before he eventually gives in. He makes a whistling sound with his fingers pressed to his lips, and they’re left to wait and observe as an adult dog comes running into their room from the door behind him, immediately pouncing onto Jongdae’s frame. Caught off guard, Yixing doesn’t catch him on time this time but that had been the last thing in Jongdae’s mind as he feels its’ tongue lap at his cheek excitedly while Jongdae himself is unable to suppress a loud laughter.

“Happy!” Jongdae exclaims, sits up to throw his arms around the dog, “You still remember me, girl? You do, don’t you?”

“She acted the same way when Sehun came by earlier too,” Baekhyun laughs, “must’ve really missed you two.”

Jongdae cups the dog’s face in his palms, a wide grin etched over his face as he strokes the top of her head gently when Yixing kneels beside him with a playful smile of his own. “I wonder if my cat’s going to avoid me for an entire week if she notices that I’ve been around dogs,” he muses.

“She probably won’t,” Baekhyun grins, and Jongdae wonders what his joke is going to be about this time, “You’ve been going out with a kitty yourself, after all.”

_What?_

Jongdae blinks, “Are you calling me a kitty?”

Baekhyun sends the officer a shit eating grin when Yixing clears his throat, forcefully willing away the blush in his cheeks as he points out how there’s a little object stuck to Happy’s collar.

“Oh, there is,” Jongdae nods, pulls out what turns out to be a rolled piece of paper from the side of her collar. The note must have been all crumpled up prior to this, Jongdae assumes, noting how wrinkly the note is as he unrolls it open. The words are harder to read this time; letters squeezed against each other in what Jongdae assumes to be evidence of Sehun adjusting his writing to write a longer passage within a smaller space.

Yixing’s chin comes resting on top of his shoulder, the side of his head bumping gently against Jongdae’s own as they read their new clue together. The smile on Yixing’s face drops as he reads on.

_‘My God is kind, my God is love, my God is beautiful, my God is true._

_I find myself asleep amidst green pastures, the waters by me is still._

_His way is home, and His lights are the brightest._

_Only His gaze has been gentle, while the lot of you have been spiteful._

_Your ignorance is not knowledge._

_Your ignorance cannot hide your lack of awareness._

_Your donations have never reached me;_

_And you’ve only got yourself to blame._

_Do you help me because it makes you feel good?_

_Do you pray for me because it feeds your superiority complex?_

_Society has never wanted to help me._

_I love it when you victimize yourselves._

_I can’t wait to reach Heaven, and watch God’s judgement fall on you_

_This is my last stop.’_

“You guys look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Baekhyun chuckles, snaps his fingers to invite Happy over to his side. He grumbles when Happy ignores him, choosing to nuzzle at Jongdae’s cheek instead. “Did Hunnie write you a death note or something?”

“Death notes don’t even work like that,” Jongdae states, folding the note up into a smaller square before getting up on his feet with a small huff. “Baekhyun, I need you to tell me; Did Sehun and Jongin, the other little boy he was with, really came here by themselves? Are you sure no one else was with them? Maybe following behind them?”

Baekhyun frowns, but there’s no doubting the concern on his expression; “No, there wasn’t. Why? Did they land themselves into trouble?”

“It’s…” Jongdae trails off unsurely, lips pursed as he averts his gaze away. Happy whimpers, noses into Jongdae’s thighs. Jongdae only sighs, shaking his head as he folds the note into his pocket. “Sorry, Baek. I’m probably just overthinking it.”

“You sure? I—Do you need me to help? I’m sure the owner won’t mind, and Jieun is at the back with the puppies too so—”

“No,” Jongdae insists, “It’s alright. Everything’s alright, Baek. We’ll get going now though, yeah?”

“Jongdae, wait—look,” Baekhyun calls, jaw tense as the playful expression that Yixing had first seen him with wilts into a guilty look, “Really, if there’s anything… just give me a call, yeah? Please.”

There’s a couple of seconds of silence before the corners of Jongdae’s lips curl upwards into a small smile. Yixing doesn’t particularly know what to do; feeling a tad bit guilty for being a part of the reason in the falter of Baekhyun’s smile though understanding why Jongdae couldn’t help acting the way he did, especially after what they’ve come across. Jongdae’s about to comfort him, and Yixing desperately wants to know if there’s something he can say—or something he can do to help.

“Don’t feel bad, Baek,” Jongdae’s already saying, gently patting his cheeks, “If there’s anything I need, I’ll give you a call, promise.”

Baekhyun averts his gaze downwards, murmurs something that only Jongdae hears. Jongdae strikes the top of his head with the side of his palm in response.

-

Their surroundings have darkened considerably, and the night continues to grow colder. Jongdae hugs his coat tighter to his body, and Yixing rubs his palms together, hands tucked warmly inside his pockets. He exhales softly, gazing up to narrow his eyes at the night sky, squinting somewhat from the brightness of the street light that shines from directly above him.

“Those who aren’t heard. Those who’ve been neglected,” Yixing hears him mumble, “And those who aren’t loved.”

And then it clicks; “The symbolisms behind the riddles?”

Jongdae only nods weakly, releasing a shaky breath; “Sehun is definitely getting help from someone.”

“Where are we headed now?”

“A church,” Jongdae answers, “The ‘green pastures’ and ‘still waters’ from the riddle is a biblical reference from the book of Psalms, and there’s a local church that holds a similarly referenced motto.”

“There are two churches around here, aren’t there?” Yixing asks.

“The second half of the riddle confirms which one of the two churches is our destination while conveying its’ message. The first church is the bigger church, located in the upper-class neighbourhood,” he explains, “and the second one is… it’s…”

Yixing thinks he knows what Jongdae wants to say; “Where more of the less fortunate visit?”

Jongdae purses his lips; “Yes. In some churches, not everyone is going to be welcoming.”

The younger man feels his steps grow heavier as they make their way to their destination, and Yixing hears the subtle sniffles that he tries to hide by rubbing his nose. “Only Sehun’s been to the second church with his father,” Jongdae says. Yixing nods in understanding, raising a hand to gently run his digits through Jongdae’s hair, meeting the latter’s eyes when Jongdae turns to him with a small smile, “Is my worry making you worried, hyung? I’m sorry that you have to spend Christmas’ Eve like this.”

Yixing shakes his head, “I’m here for you. Whatever you need me for, always _._ ”

Jongdae sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, smile pursed as he raises his scarf higher up his face. “You’re so cheesy, hyung.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being cheesy, is there?” Yixing laughs, and Jongdae wonders if the stars in his eyes are real, “I won’t be sorry for being soft. It is my promise to you.”

The lights above them flickers. Jongdae has a question, a thought that sprung out of his racing heartbeat. He’s not particularly sure he wants to voice it out loud though. Jongdae simply smiles shyly as he sucks in his stomach to at least stop the butterflies tickling from within. It doesn’t work. Yixing says things so easily, and Jongdae finds himself envious of his boldness; mostly because he wants to be just as bold to make Yixing just as flustered as he makes Jongdae on a daily basis.

Behind them, the city lights have become somewhat softer; Nothing but gentle illuminations from the distance. They had travelled to the neighbourhood by a taxi, not wanting to waste any more time once their watches had struck half an hour past six. Jongdae lets out a gentle puff of air and sees white before shoving his hands into his pockets. In the silence between them, Jongdae finds himself with a lot of time to think.

Too much time to think.

Jongdae worries himself over Sehun’s safety, over the nature of the motives that whoever is helping him has, over what he may end up finding once they get to the church, over the possibilities of other events that may disrupt their journey to the church, and the consequences that _that_ could lead to. In better circumstances, Jongdae might’ve laughed seeing himself. He’s supposed to be better than _this_.

7.54PM, and they find themselves in front of the open gates of a church. Little festive lights decorate its’ doors, colourful ornaments hung over its’ windows prettily. Yixing turns to him with a little tilt to his head; “Six more minutes?”

Jongdae affirms with a small smile, “Just a little more.”

Yixing nods, gaze landing over the entrance.

_‘8PM ON THE DOT!’_

The younger takes a deep breath, lips pursed as he readies himself for the last time, taking one final look at his watch. _50 more seconds_. They walk over towards the doors, and Jongdae’s heart continues to race even when Yixing takes his hand into his halfway there, grips at their intertwined fingers in reassurance. His free palm wraps around the metallic handle, gently pushes it open as Jongdae is greeted with the warm orange hues of the church’s inside lighting, and the sight of its’ little congregation. In between the long benches, Jongdae notices Jongin, his arms folded over the backrest of the bench in front of him as he observes the empty stage intently when the young boy notices their arrival.

“Dae hyung,” he mouths, beckoning the both of them over excitedly. Beside Yixing, Jongdae’s eyes soften in relief, and it’s Jongdae’s turn to squeeze Yixing’s hand. Jongin waves at them happily from his seat.

_Where’s Sehun?_

Jongdae eyes him from head to toe; feels an overwhelming sense of relief when he realizes that at least Jongin is safe and sound. They approach the young boy, slides into the seating space beside him when Yixing notices the way Jongin beams at his presence, smiling back with a relieved smile of his own. Jongdae looks around worriedly for any signs of Sehun, but as much as Sehun is his priority, something in the back of his head attempts to distract him by looking for their _very questionable sidekick_ , whoever that may be. Yixing leans over to Jongin with a question in mind.

“Where is—”

“Ssh!!”

His eyebrows furrow at the sudden shushing when the lights around them go out. Jongdae raises his guard instinctively when he hears footsteps shuffling at the dark stage in front of them, eyes narrowed when he notices little flames appearing out of nowhere, and voices emerging from the dark, humming the intro of a familiar tune. The flames move in pattern together in sync with the humming, and Jongdae finally notices the people behind them; just a small group of young children shrouded in white, with their little fingers holding onto their mini candlesticks carefully.

However, it’s Yixing who sees _him_ first, lips shaping into a fond, wide grin when he sees a little boy, shorter than the rest as he stands by the centre. A voice arises from amidst them, and Jongdae perks up when he realizes who it belongs to, jaw dropping in awe as numerous other voices follow behind the familiar voice in singing the next line. A song that they all know too well, and the voice that he’s been hoping to hear from the very moment the game started.

His racing heart calms down, and Jongdae’s eyes water when he finally sees Sehun, standing in front in his own white choir robe, digits careful around the candlestick.

“When did Sehun...” Jongdae trails off, gaze meeting Sehun’s own when the young boy looks up, smiles at him warmly from behind his candlelight.

“It’s his Christmas gift for you,” Jongin explains, and Jongdae assumes he must have been positioned here to be the one doing the elaboration and the congratulatory message, “He’s been wanting to show you their ‘Silent Night’ candle performances for a while now! Hunnie said he watched it before with his dad.”

“He’s a good singer,” Yixing comments, turns to Jongdae with a smile.

“Hunnie only joined them this year!” The boy grins, feeling just as proud, “Oh, and congratulations for solving our riddles too! It was real hard work.”

Jongdae can’t help the little chuckle that escapes him, sighing to himself before he lets out another airy chuckle. The tears at the corners of his eyes finally roll down his cheeks, lips pursed as he fists around the hem of Yixing’s coat, tugging at it gently. Yixing notices this before he notices the way Jongdae wipes at the tears over his cheeks with his sleeve.

_‘You little softie.’_

“He’s so silly,” Jongdae murmurs, and Yixing knows that it’s more to himself rather than a statement being said to Yixing, “Silly brat. All that worrying because I made him earn his gifts in the past few years?”

Yixing lets out a small laughter, shakes his head; “I guess this should serve as a lesson to you, no?”

The younger man huffs, hides half of his face into Yixing’s shoulder. “’M going to do it again. Don’t care,” Jongdae grumbles.

“You’re just as much of a silly brat, Dae ah,” Yixing coos, running his digits through Jongdae’s brown locks when Jongin grimaces at the display of affection, though Yixing is too focused on the singing choir to notice. Sehun has his head held up high as he moves the candlesticks along with the rest of the singers, and he marvels at how the little flames look like fireflies flying together in the darkness from afar, the lights and their little dance accompanied with soft, melodious voices.

_Sehun is safe_. _All safe and sound, being a part of something that he’s probably long had his eyes on._

Jongdae can’t help his own head from being occupied with nothing but Sehun, Sehun, and _Sehun_ , as well as Yixing’s soothing little touches, and in exchange, Yixing wonders in his place, the question he’s been concerned about for the past couple of hours.

“Did someone help you write the riddles?” Yixing asks in a whisper to Jongin.

Jongin’s eyes widen in realization, “Oh, right! Yes, someone did. An old friend of Jongdae hyung’s dad.”

Yixing raises a brow, “Is he here?”

“No, he isn’t,” Jongin shakes his head, “He only wrote out the instructions for us and had us do it on our own. But he did say he’d leave a gift for Jongdae hyung after Hunnie’s choir.”

_A gift?_

He doesn’t quite understand the sudden uneasiness growing from within his chest. _Did this friend not want to meet his old friend’s son?_ Next to him, Jongdae’s attention has yet to shift, his smile only appearing to grow by the seconds as the song begins to progress into the next verse, a set of new voices joining the original singers. Yixing hopes he hadn’t heard a thing from his conversation with Jongin. _He’ll tell him later._

“The little fires look like fireflies,” Jongdae says.

Yixing hums, agreeing. He hopes Jongdae doesn’t think of anything else for now.

-

_I wonder whose present will he prefer? Mine or the little boy’s?_

He muses, a ring necklace dangling from his fingers as he turns his back to the entrance of the church. The ring slides down the thin silver chain as he undoes the clasp, lands on top of the palm raised to catch it. He’ll miss the ring dearly, the little object having served as a reminder for so many fond memories from the past; words and images that ring clearly in his head, all of a person that he never ever wants to forget. It doesn’t matter that he killed _him_ , right?

The man lets the ring slide off of his palm and onto the wooden bench nearby the doors, eyes the name engraved over metal one last time before making his way towards the exit gates. He buries his gloved hands into his pockets and pulls his hat further down to cover the upper half of his face, smiling to himself when he imagines what Jongdae would think of his present, feels quite sure that he’ll _cherish_ it just as much as he had prior to this, if not more. It is his father’s missing ring, after all.

A gust of cold wind sweeps over the area. Having walked this distance away, the sounds and music of the church’s choir has become nothing but a part of the background ambience of his surroundings, and slowly, but surely, once he’s walked enough steps away, the day he had earlier will also be reduced into a memory to be _felt._

_It’s been a while since I’ve been here._

He hasn’t felt this content in a while. “Daeseok,” he calls out, casting an upwards glance at the cloudy skies above him, “I miss you, love. I’m back home.”

_I’ll meet you again soon, Jongdae._


End file.
